The First Hole: Kakashi's Fractured Mind
by Moiya Hatake
Summary: Holes were suppose to be smooth, round. This one was long and jagged. The something that filled it's center spilled out over the hard wood floor. Kakashi's mind seem to splinter and break into pieces.


**Author's Notes:** I highly recommend people interested in YondKaka pairings go check out the community in Live Journal titled YondKaka! This is a oneshot for a challenge fic written for the LJ community. The prompt was simply Holes. It sparked my creativity to no end and I couldnt stop writing. This is the first of a few that will link in some ways but dont have to be read together. Sorry for all the angst. Tissues might be required.

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**The First Hole**

**Kakashi's Fractured Mind**

Holes were suppose to be round.

Smooth.

This was far from smooth.

It was long and slightly jagged.

A hole.

They were empty spaces where something had once existed.

Or maybe they were empty spaces where nothing had ever existed.

The first was true for this hole he couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from.

How many holes had he seen in his short life?

So many.

Holes in fences.

Holes in clothes.

Even holes in people.

But nothing like this one.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered why he could see nothing else.

Darkness had closed in around him, his vision tunneled around the hole.

This hole that he couldn't tear his eyes away from.

This hole where something had once existed.

That _something_ lay on the floor at his feet he realized so suddenly he fell back on his butt and quickly scooted away, his vision no longer hindered by the dark tunnel.

Had he stopped breathing?

He wish he would again.

The smell was so strong.

Trembling fingers snagged the edge of dark fabric, tugging it back in place.

It was against his fathers wishes to wear the mask at home.

Shame made his heart contract painfully.

It made him look instead.

Dark eyes roamed over the hole once again.

Over the something on the floor.

Over pale fingers stained red.

Over familiar spiky hair.

The dark tunnel closed in around cold empty orbs.

Like black holes in which the very soul had been swallowed up.

Perhaps it was both.

Holes were empty spaces where everything and nothing had once existed.

He couldn't breath.

A whooshing sound filled his ears.

He was filled with an urgency to put the something back and close the hole.

It was hard to move properly when every inch of him was shaking so violently it caused pain to shoot through his limbs.

It was even harder to breath when his lungs refused to cooperate.

His fingers felt like ice.

The smell made the muscles in his abdomen contract against his will.

But if he put the something back and closed the hole then maybe, just maybe the dark soul sucking orbs would be filled again.

He couldn't see.

His mask itched.

There was a sound replacing the strange whooshing from before.

It was oddly familiar.

The something wouldn't stay.

It kept sliding over his fingers back onto the floor.

It was cold he realized.

Like the hole and the soul sucking orbs.

Someone was screaming.

Crying.

Yelling.

It bounced off the walls.

But he didn't have time to worry about that someone.

His ear pressed against cold skin.

Where there should be sound he heard nothing.

Where there should be movement he felt nothing.

At first he thought maybe he was unable to hear it over the child who wouldn't stop crying or feel it past his uncontrollable shaking.

But now he knew.

It was as still and cold and soulless as the orbs, the hole and all the something covering his hands, the floor, soaking into his clothes.

Into his very soul.

He didn't move.

He couldn't.

His back ached and his legs didn't seem to exist anymore.

The something had dried in places, making him feel stiff and itchy.

His eyes burned.

He refused to close them.

But there was nothing left to ease the pain.

It had all leaked out into his mask.

Into the fabric his sticky fingers were still curled tightly around over the frozen heart he hadn't been able to fix.

He blinked.

A broken piece of his mind registered the room was getting brighter.

Slowly he untangled himself.

He was late.

He couldn't be late.

A shinobi must follow even the most basic rules and regulations.

Breaking rules caused holes.

Soul sucking holes that turned hearts to stone and stole life and warmth from everything.


End file.
